


The Henry Chronicles

by Amaclucky13



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Swan Believer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaclucky13/pseuds/Amaclucky13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing moments from the life of the one and only Henry Swan-Mills!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Henry Chronicles

The Henry Chronicles

Moments Lost

Regina paced anxiously across the floor in her foyer while she waited for the familiar sight Emma Swan's yellow bug to pull up in front of the house. She tapped her fingers nervously glancing at the box sitting on the table in the middle of her entryway. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop glancing the shoebox. The well worn, obviously well loved, and cared for shoebox. Slowing to a stop to face the shoebox with her back to the door Regina continued tapping her fingers together as she stared the box down. 

In all honesty, she hadn't meant to find the silly box stuffed back, deep within the four walls of Henry's closet. Truthfully, she had only meant to clean out his closet like Henry had been planning to do forever now, his little kid stuff from when he was ten no longer suits him, his room no longer suits him. Regina had merely offered to clean out Henry's closet because it was so jam packed and since he spends most of his time living with Emma rather than her neither are willing to clean when they finally spend time together. So she made the offer to Henry who agreed not once mentioning there was anything in his closet he didn't think she should see. Until she stumbled across this old shoebox. She knew it was old based on the size of the shoe that had originally come inside of it, but its contents also gave away how the box was as well. 

Regina didn't realize how long she had been glaring and staring at the box until she heard a soft knock at the front door. Jumping slightly, she pivoted on her heel, and raced towards the door. Partly to get away from staring at the shoebox but also in part because she wanted to quell her ever racing thoughts about the contents of the shoebox. Whipping the door open she found a flustered Emma Swan standing on the other side of the door. Emma – as per usual – was wearing jeans, her boots, a shirt, and her red leather jacket. Emma looked surprised by the way Regina had pulled open the door, but she smiled anyway, and then it started pulling into a frown as she took in Regina. 

“Got your message,” Emma said slowly. “Everything okay?”

“Where's is Henry?” Regina peered over Emma's shoulder towards Emma's Yellow Bug parked in front of the house. “Is he with you?”

“No,” Emma shook her head. “Killian took Henry out sailing on the Jolly Roger. They'll be gone all day, Henry has been talking about it all week since Killian promised him the first real trip out on the Jolly Roger. So, are you going to tell me what's going on or keep up with this cloak and dagger routine?”

“I found something,” Regina swallowed thickly. “Something I think you should see.” 

“What's going on?” Emma asked as she followed Regina back inside the house. “You call me, tell me to get over her right away, and then you answer the door in a panic. Did I miss something? Because I could have sworn we've been villain free for a while now. There shouldn't be an emergencies or crisis popping up.”

“No, no villains.” Regina shook her head as she walked over to the shoebox sitting on the table. She gently placed her hands on shoebox with a sigh. For a long moment she said nothing, just stared at the shoebox in front of her. “I found something when I was going through Henry's closet. I believe it belongs to you.” 

“If it was in Henry's closet then it belongs to Henry.” Emma shrugged. “Why would he keep anything for me is in his closet, it's such a cliché place to hide something.”

“I'm not sure,” Regina slide the shoebox towards Emma.

For yet another long moment no one said anything while Emma took a long hard look at the box. Written on the top of the box in black crayon with messy writing was 'to mommy.' Emma's entire body went rigid staring at the shoebox her eyes slide up to look at Regina who she found was already staring at her. 

“This doesn't belong to me.” Emma said simply, shortly. “It's yours, it says Mommy on it. This had to had been written years ago judging by the crayon, the handwriting, and the size of the shoe.”

“It doesn't,” Regina shook her head. “I thought it was mine too, until I took a look inside, and found that what's inside this box doesn't belong to me. It belongs to you.” 

“I don't want this, Regina.” Emma shook his head. “If he wanted me to have it he would have given it to me by now, I've known him for years now. Not once has he mentioned a word about a shoebox in the back of his closet. He doesn't want me to know what's in there, so I don't want to see what's inside that box.”

“It's not for me either.” Regina shook her head. “What am I supposed to do with it? I don't want to throw it away but I shouldn't have it either. This isn't right for me to have, you should take it.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Emma shook her head. “If it bothers you that much, give it back to Henry. He'll be back home later tonight. Killian promised to have him back for a late dinner. If you want, come by tonight and ask him what you should do with it. Until then, just put it back into the closet.”

“You're right,” Regina shook her head. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you here.”

Emma smiled softly in return nudging the shoebox back towards Regina. Regina took it, looking at the box a little softer than she had been before. She wasn't glaring at the box at the moment.

“Sorry to have bothered you... Emma.” Regina said carefully. 

“It's okay,” Emma shrugged. “But I don't meant to rush out but I made lunch plans with my mother and my baby brother.”

“Have fun,” Regina smiled. “I have to get going as well, I promised to meet with Robin and Roland for a picnic in the park, and maybe some ice cream as well.” 

“I'll talk to you later, Regina.” Emma smiled. “Tell Robin and Roland I said hello.”

With that Emma swept out of the house to her Yellow Bug and headed off towards Granny's while Regina carefully returned the shoebox to it's perch in Henry's closet. No matter how hard she tried for the rest of the day Regina could only think about the contents of that shoebox while the day trudged by slowly as she waited impatiently for Henry to get home later that night.

* * *

Later on that very same night Regina while she was nursing a glass of whiskey and chewing gently on her thumb while she stared at the fireplace in her office she received a text message from Henry around nine. 

Mom said I should send you a message once I got settled in my room after dinner, she thought you might want to talk to me. Everything okay? Should I call you?

The very moment she finished reading the message was the same moment she pushed the call button so she could speak to her son instead of trying to say everything that was all mixed around in her head in a message to him. Taking a deep breath she heard Henry pick up on the first ring sounding concerned as he wondered what was wrong because Emma hadn't really said much of anything about what was going on. All she had told him was that it was nothing bad but Regina could tell him the rest. With a deep breath Regina began to explain what she had found in his closet. 

* * *

Walking barefoot through the large mansion Emma was just a little grateful for the warmer weather because it meant this huge mansion wasn't quite as chilly or drafty anymore. Moving out of the little apartment she had shared with her son, her parents, and her brother into a huge mansion with more rooms than she could ever need was a bit of change. One she had definitely needed to take time to get used to. Before she was tripping over everyone she lived with, then it was just her and Henry for a while. Well, at least until the moment Emma realized Killian was living with them as well because at some point he just ceased to home to the Jolly Roger at all anymore. 

Emma padded into the kitchen where she found Henry sitting at the island in the middle. He had his hands folded in front of him with his book splayed out on the counter top, his chin rested on top of is folded his hands. Emma's lips quirked as she took in the thoughtful look on his face as he stared at the pages of the book in front of him. Emma wondered if he was trying to will them to come to life or something to that effect. She walked over to the fridge pulling it open to peer inside to see what they had as she pondered the different ideas for breakfast. 

“Any ideas on what you want for breakfast, kid?” Emma asked, her head still in the fridge. “I'm in the mood for chocolate chip pancakes. How about you?”

After a moment when Henry didn't say anything she glanced over her shoulder to see he hadn't even moved which made her wonder if he even heard her. Calling to him once again did nothing to catch his attention so she stood to her full height, shut the fridge door, and walked over to him. 

“Kid?” Emma waved a hand in front of the book. “Are you alright? I lost you for a moment.”

“Sorry, mom.” Henry sighed softly. “I was just thinking.”

“I caught that much,” Emma teased ruffling his hair. She dropped forward to lean on her forearms so they were at eye level now. “What's going on? You've been in this funk for days now. I don't like it, I want my sunny, cheery, smiley kid back. I'm not sure if I want the sullen, lost in the thought, moody teen around all the time. Are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or do I have to guess? Does it have something to do with the book? Cause you're staring at it pretty hard.”

Emma waved to the page he had his book open to. It was the page where Emma and Killian were dancing together at King Midas' Ball. Henry sat up a little to abruptly which caused Emma to look at her son with a mixture of concern and worry but overall from where Henry was sitting he could see one other thing too. It was something he had been seeing in her eyes since the moment he met her. This underlying concern, protectiveness, and most of all love. From the moment he had met his biological mother she had done nothing but try to protect him, care for him, and give him whatever he needs whenever he needs it. No matter what the situation Emma has never hesitated to make sure he's okay. To give him the very best even if it were to cost him everything. And for the first time Henry realized that she's been doing that from the moment she decided to give him up all those years ago. Emma was doing what she thought was best for him, giving him his best chance far away from her, and with someone else. 

Even when Emma Swan thought she couldn't be a mother she was one. Swallowing thickly Henry glanced down at the seat beside him, a move which didn't slip past Emma. Henry's lips quirked up in amusement, there wasn't much that got past his mother. Henry's lips tugged up completely when he felt his mother grab his hand pulling him from his daze yet again. 

“Sorry,” Henry smiled. “Didn't meant to get lost again.”

“Come on, kid.” Emma smiled encouragingly. “There's nothing, nothing at all, that you can't tell me. So, come on, spit it out already.”

“I know. Before...” Henry took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Before you came to Storybrooke I used to wonder what you were like. I always imagined you were beautiful, loving, sweet, strong, open, and everything I could hope my mother to be. Everything Regina wasn't being. For as long as I could remember I kept this shoebox on the top shelf of my closet, pushed back into the deepest corner. So far back I had to stand on a step ladder I kept in my room just to get at it. Even being in therapy with Archie to talk to... I knew, I knew, deep down he didn't really believe me about the curse. And before that I knew he listened because it was his job and he was my friend but I never felt safe telling him how I really felt. I felt safe in telling Grandma but it wasn't the same.”

Henry took a deep breath as he struggled to explain but he looked at his mother's encouraging eyes, seeing such a warmth, affection, and love shining in them he felt better. She squeezed his hand gently. 

“So, I wrote these.” Henry closed his book, shifted it to the side, and placed the shoebox on the table between them. Emma sat back a little but didn't release his hand. “I   
wrote them when I needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to me. Sometimes, I didn't even bother to write letters I just talked out loud to you like you were there with me in the moments I was left alone. When my mom was at a meeting or out shopping or whatever. I talked like you were there with me. I told you silly things like how my day went or what I had for lunch. Other times I told you the things I never told anyone else.”

Henry slide the shoebox towards his mother who looked unsure about taking them but before she could voice her opinions on the matter he cut her off.

“These belong to you.” Henry said softly. “There's not much in them you don't already know. I never thought about giving them to you before because I just told you everything anyway. But I think you should have them. I wrote them to you. So, you should keep them.” After a moment of silence between them Henry chuckled softly. “You what the funniest part might be to all of this. I always pictured you as the type of mother who would listen to my worst fears and never judge me for them. I always wanted someone who would just listen and try to help me when I needed it, while other times just letting me get my feelings out. The funny part is you're exactly the way I pictured you to be. A mother who would curl up with me on the couch to watch a movie, who will sometimes let me get away with sweets before dinner but not always. Someone who will listen when I talk, really listen to me. The mother I wished for more than anything in the world was exactly like you.”

“Aw, kid, come here.” Emma opened her arms and met Henry around one side of the island. 

Henry rushed from his seat the moment Emma opened her arms. He crashed into her burying his face into her neck breathing in her soothing smell as he felt her arms wrap tightly around him pulling him even closer to her body. He felt Emma's hand cup the back of his head protectively as he sank just a little further into her embrace if it was even possible. 

“Have I ever mentioned you give the warmest hugs?” Henry muttered into her neck. “Safe, warm, like a big comfy security blanket fresh out the dryer. Like nothing and no one can touch me here.”

“No one would dare.” Emma promised. “They'd have to go through me first.”

“They wouldn't stand a chance.” Henry teased. “No one in the right mind would mess with a Mama Bear.” 

“No, they wouldn't.” Emma kissed the top of Henry's head before she nudged the shoebox gently. “Are you sure you want me to have these, kid?” 

“I'm sure. Like I said, they belong to you anyway. You should have them.” Henry nodded. He was quiet for a moment before he pulled back to grin at his mother. “You mentioned something about breakfast, right?”

“Ah, yes, far be it from me to keep a teenage boy away from food.” Emma shook her head as Henry returned to his seat to watch her cook. “So, as I asked before but since you didn't answer and probably missed the entire question I'll repeat it for you. I'm in the mood for some chocolate chip pancakes, kid. How about you?”

“Someone mention chocolate chip pancakes?” Killian called walking into the room ruffling Henry's hair affectionately and kissing Emma on the cheek which made her smile and Henry cringe and look away.

“Hey, that's my mom!” Henry teased. “Keep your lips to yourself because I would like to still have my appetite for my chocolate chip pancakes, thank you very much.”

“Sorry, kid.” Emma smiled leaning forward to kiss Henry on the forehead. “Won't happen again.”

“Liar,” Henry muttered teasingly. “Just warn me so I can avert my eyes next time.” 

“Will do,” Emma agreed. “Alright, so are we in agreement over the chocolate chip pancakes because I'm starving and not to mention I'm in the mood for chocolate. Anyone disagree?” Emma took a quick look around the room to see everyone nodding their agreement to the pancakes. “Great, I'll get cooking.”

* * *

Dear Mom,

Is that ok? If I call you Mom? I wasn't sure if you liked mom, or mommy, or maybe even your name best. But most of the other kids in class call their moms mom, so I went with that for now.

Today was pretty boring. Kind of the same as every day. My mom – adopted mom, Regina – made pancakes, but there wasn't any syrup and I think they were that whole wheat thing. I went to school. We're learning tricks for all the state capitals. But we've been learning them for so long I don't even need the tricks anymore. Then I went to Dr. Hopper. I'm not supposed to talk about what I talk about with him. But there was some stuff that I thought about with him, and no one said I couldn't say those things. Most of them are pretty boring, because they're about sneaking ice cream or a cool spider, but there are a couple things I thought about that I wanted to tell you.

I love you. Sometimes I think maybe you're scared to come find me because you're worried I don't love you. But you don't have to worry, because I do.

Other times I worry that you're not looking. That you forgot, or that you think I didn't turn out ok. If that's what it is, I promise I'm pretty good. You can ask my teacher, Ms. Blanchard. She's really nice and I think she likes me a lot. I'll get her number, you can call her and ask.

Can I tell you a secret? You have to promise not to tell anybody, because it's kind of embarrassing. Sometimes, when there's no one else home, I talk to you. Out loud, like you're there. It's usually just dumb stuff while we're brushing our teeth or doing long division. But for a few minutes you're there. And it's really, really nice.

Ms. Blanchard says she's got something for me. Something that'll “Give me hope.” But I don't need hope really, I just need patience. I know you'll come sooner or later. Maybe it's a gameboy.

Sooner, I think. I have a feeling. I'm pretty sure I've spent enough time wishing for it.

Henry (Your Son)

P.S. I don't have a place to send these, but that's okay. I like just writing them.

Emma must have read through every letter in the shoebox at least a dozen times but she kept getting stuck on this one in particular. Maybe it's because it's the last one in the box. It's the last one he ever wrote her out of the dozens currently sitting in her lap. This was right before he got his book, right before her birthday, and right before he decided to come find her. Maybe he had enough waiting for her to find him and decided to take matters into his own hands. Emma read through it one more time. Once more she can feel her heart breaking for this lonely little boy, the very same lonely little boy she had met all those years ago. The one who felt unloved, alone in the world. 

Emma could remember clearly her memories with Henry during the year they spent away from everyone else, when they believed they had always been a family. She remembered whenever she or Henry felt lonely the other would remind them it was always Emma and Henry against the world. No matter what happened they would always be there for each other. They were never alone because they were together. This Henry, in his real memories didn't have that. A child should never feel as though they were left to fend completely for themselves, it's not right. And yet, reading through these letters Emma can feel just how lonely her poor baby boy was. Every moment of every day with little to nothing to ease the pain. Although, Emma did find one shining piece of happiness despite this letters indicating how awful and alone Henry was, how much his thoughts had echoed her own when she was his age. The piece of happiness Emma clung to despite it all was the letters stopped once she had come to town.

Once Emma was in Storybrooke and Henry had his book, something to hope for, something to fight for, and someone to talk to him, to listen to him. Emma could see from the moment she had come to Storybrooke things had gotten better. Henry had been better, happy even. At least, that's what she hoped for anyway. It eased the torture she was putting herself through thinking that if she had kept him, he would have been better off. Go figure, Emma shook her head. In trying to keep him safe she hurt Henry in the process. 

“Swan?” Emma heard a gruff sleepy voice from behind her. “What in the bloody hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Killian who looked adorably sleep rumpled with sleep mused hair and a confused look on his face as he came to their balcony doorway. Emma wasn't quite sure why this had been the moment she had chosen to read the letters Henry had given her. When her son had given her them this morning she hadn't thought about them again once she had put them away up in her and Killian's bedroom. Not until when she went to bed later that very same night. Until that moment she hadn't spared them a thought, maybe she had just gotten lost in her day, and spending time with her family. Far too busy to think about the letters. Too busy until her mind finally settled for the day and in the stillness and quiet of her bedroom she had too much time on her hands not to think about them. Of course, she tried to convince herself she would wait until the next morning since it was far too late to start reading a bunch of letters now. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't possibly stop thinking about them, her mind wouldn't rest until her curiosity was sated. 

So, under the cover of darkness she slipped out of her bed as she untangled herself from Killian's arms and legs separating herself from his grasp. Emma had waited a moment to make sure he wouldn't wake up. He had a bad habit of waking up the moment she leaves the bed. Emma carefully slipped her pillow into Killian's arms instead hoping it would fill his arms well enough to keep him sleeping. She grabbed the shoebox from its place underneath her bed before heading out onto the balcony to read the letters. Naturally Emma had gravitated towards the water which she could hear and see from her balcony, somewhere in the deepest parts of her mind she knew the water would soothe her mind for whatever she read in those letters. 

“Just needed a quiet place to think.” Emma said softly.

“About what, love?” Killian asked, he stepped out onto the balcony. “Is something bothering you?”

Emma shook her head as she gently nudged Killian's hand with her own. He smiled though a little tight because of his confusion and concern for her. Emma tugged him down so he would sit in the other chair on the balcony with her. 

“No,” Emma looked down at the letters. “I'm fine. I'm just reading. Henry gave these to me.”

“What are they?” Killian peered down at the letters but made no move to touch them or look to see what they really are. He sensed that would be an unwelcome gesture. Instead he waited for her to explain.

“Henry wrote them to me,” Emma spoke so softly if it wasn't so quiet aside from the crashing waves Killian wouldn't have been able to hear her speak. “Before I came to Storybrooke. Whenever he needed to say something, he wrote it to me hoping I would be the person to really listen, and someone who could hear what he's really saying. I guess even seeing Henry during that time, talking to him, getting to know him I never really knew how lonely he was. I could guess, but...”

Killian smiled at her encouragingly. It was a soft warm smile, one that made his eyes practically melt with the warmth radiating from them. And for one moment Emma was struck with wonder. Wonder if this is what she did for Henry all those years ago. Encouraged him to smile, to tell her things, to trust her with his innermost thoughts, and know that no matter what she would always be there for him when he needed her. The very same things Killian always tries to convey to her. 

“But I don't know.” Emma shook her head. “I never really could tell, Henry was always so happy around me. He smiled, he laughed, he joked, and he had fun. At least I think he did. He was miserable with Regina, but I never saw him truly miserable because he had an outlet someone...”

“Who brightened his day in the blackest of moments.” Killian supplied, smiling as Emma nodded. “I know the feeling quite well, looks like the lad and I have something in common.”

“I never him saw him without anyone, without a life raft.” Emma looked down at the letters shaking her head back and forth as she felt a lump constrict in her throat. “And he was so alone! He was alone and he seemed just so hopeless about everything except that one day he and I would find each other. We would find each other and everything else would be okay. He was... He was alone in the world and while Regina may have made him feel that way I'm the one who gave him up for adoption.”

“You couldn't have known what would happen to him, Emma.” Killian took her by the hand again, waiting until her eyes met his. “You thought you were doing the right thing, giving him his best chance at a good life. There was no way you could have known what would happen to him. You were facing an uncertain future no matter what way you turned, so you did what you thought was best for Henry. It may have hurt him but there's no doubting your intentions were honorable and that any mother, any true mother would make.”

“I know,” Emma swallowed thickly, feeling tears pooling in her eyes. “I know, I made the best choice I could. But I know what this felt like, wishing, wondering, and feeling ever so alone in the world. With no one to talk to, no one to even ease the loneliness. I didn't want that for him! I wanted him to grow up feeling like he was the most precious thing in the world! I wanted him to have everything I never had, a loving family, and parents who wanted nothing more than to see him happy. I wanted a good life for him. Instead I gave him exactly what I had, except instead of bouncing around his entire childhood he was trapped in a house with a horrible woman hellbent on vengeance!”

“As I said, love, you couldn't have known what would happen.” Killian shook his head. “Besides, there is nothing to be gained by dwelling in the past, you and I both know that's not anyway to live. All you can do is live in the here and now. And in the here and now you are wonderful, loving, caring, and devoted mother who would doing anything to see her son happy. By anything I do mean anything because if he asked for the moon you'd find, someway, to bring it to him. Wouldn't you agree, love?”

Emma shrugged slightly looking down so Killian couldn't see her lips quirked up at the corners. However, even without seeing her start smiling to herself he knew she was pleased about his observations. Killian knew, because he knew her better than anyone else, he could read her like an open book. 

“I still had a hand in making him feel so alone, Killian.” Emma sighed sadly. “I never wanted that for him. I never wanted him to know what that felt like.” 

“Loneliness can find us even in the most crowded rooms.” Killian smiled warmly. “Henry knows you were trying to protect him, that you would never hurt him intentionally, and he knows that if you had know what would happen to him you would have done everything in your power to protect him. I doubt your lad gave you these letters to make you sad.”

“Neither do I,” Emma flipped through the letters. She sighed softly to herself as she glanced over them once more. If she kept looking at them she would have them memorized in no time. “Just with all the power in the world, all the love he has now... I just wish I could take away all the pain and suffering he went through. It's not fair to Henry that just because Regina and I were in a bad place when he was born doesn't mean he should suffer for it.” 

“Aye, it's not fair to the lad, but you can't change the past.” Killian smirked teasingly. “Rather you shouldn't change the past, bad things tend to happen when you do.” 

“I know,” Emma carefully placed the letters into the shoebox. “I just feel so helpless.”

“Well, I'm sure you'll figure something out, Swan.” Killian smiled carefully wrapping his arm around her as they both rose to walk back into their bedroom. “You're not one to let things lie.”

Emma laughed softly as she followed Killian back into their bedroom. She still felt this heavy weight on her chest as she got back into bed with him, curling up to lay on his chest. Emma could feel his heart beating as she closed her eyes trying not to let the guilt of her son's misery for a decade crush her. All the magic in the world can't undo the pain he was in before she came to Storybrooke. Emma honestly wondered if everything he had now, if his life, and the happiness Henry feels now does truly outweigh all the pain he's been through. Even after she had come to Storybrooke and broke the curse. 

Squeezing her eyes closed Emma lets Killian's warm embrace chase away the guilt threatening to cause her chest to cave in on itself. Emma drifted off to sleep with thoughts of her son floating through her dreams that night.

* * *

“Mom?” Henry called from inside his bedroom. “Are you planning on coming in or just pacing outside my door forever?”

Emma rolled her eyes because – of course – her kid would notice she had been pacing the length of the hallway outside his door for the last ten minutes without doing anything productive. She likes to think maybe he got some of that from her. 

“Sorry, kid,” Emma said opening his door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, Mom.” Henry looked a little confused. “What's up?”

“I just wanted to give you something.” Emma walked over to Henry's full size bed. Once both she and Henry were settled on the bed she placed an old box between them. The very same one she kept anything she deemed important enough from her childhood to keep with her no matter where she went. 

“What's this?” Henry asked running his fingertips across the top of the box gently. 

“What's left of my childhood,” Emma smiled softly. “Once I was out of the foster system I tossed anything I thought I might want to keep into this box, it was a very few items at first. Little trinkets with memories behind them I didn't want to lose. It grew until I went to prison, after that there wasn't much I wanted to remember. There were a lot of moments when I wanted to throw I away, a lot of times when I actually tried, and a few when I wanted to burn it.”

“But you didn't.” Henry said firmly. 

“No, I didn't.” Emma shrugged. “At first I thought it would be a reminder to not trust people and that if I got rid of it I would forget but now it's a reminder there were a few bright spots to my childhood too.”

“So, why are you showing me this?” Henry asked softly. 

“Well, you shared your letters with me.” Emma smiled. “I wanted to share mine with you.” 

“What?” Henry frowned. 

“On the day you were born I wrote a letter to you and on the day of your first birthday I wrote another one as well.” Emma carefully slipped the lid off of the box, gently   
slipping the items on top of two envelopes out of the way. The paper was clearly old, dusty, and very brittle away sitting in a box for so long. There were dates written on the front of each envelope. “I thought you should have them since they belong to you.” 

“Mom, you don't have to.” Henry shook his head. 

“I know, kid.” Emma smiled softly. “But I kept thinking about what you wrote in your letters to me. You often wonder if I was looking for you, if I thought about it, or if I had forgotten. I thought you should know there was never a moment in my life where you were far from my mind. There was never a day in those ten years where I didn't think about you. A moment when I didn't wonder what you looked like, if you had my smile or my eyes or if you had your father's laugh. I thought about you every day for those tens years because no matter what was going on I always wished for you to have everything I never did.”

“You sure?” Henry asked as Emma handed him the two envelopes. “Because you don't have to.”

“I want to, kid.” Emma ruffled his hair. “They belong to you. So, you should have them.”

Henry stood up abruptly coming to his mother so he didn't knock over the box on the bed between them to wrap his arms around her in a hug. He buried his face into his mother's neck as she pulled him into his arms holding his body to her own. Emma cradled the back of Henry's head keeping him tucked in her side as he sighed softly. 

“Just so you know,” Henry whispered. “It's a nice gesture but all I've needed is a hug from you and that's enough to make everything better even in the darkest of times. I hope you know that.”

“Same here, kid.” Emma kissed the top of his head. “One hug just brightens up the blackest days.”

“I love you, Mom.” Henry smiled.

“I love you too, kid.” Emma smiled back.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hoped you liked it! :)


End file.
